He left the room in an irritable manner, and returned in a minute or two.
“Mademoiselle Fontrailles is unable to see you; she will not be visible before noon.”
“Ah, then at noon she will not be visible to me, for at noon I must be out of Paris. You did not give her my message.”
“Oh, ma foi!” cried Jean, swelling like a turkey-cock. “You say that to my face! You give me the lie direct!”
“I give you nothing. I say you did not explain to her fully my position.”
“Explain to her your position? Mon Dieu! I explained it as well as I could, shouting through her closed bedroom door, and her reply was, ‘Tell Monsieur Rochefort I am unable to see him, and in any event I will not come down till noon.’ So you see, she did not even say she would see you at noon.”
“The devil!” said Rochefort. “I don’t know what to make of you all. I say nothing about any help I have given you, but I will say this, the man I have pitted myself against, Monsieur de Choiseul, is at least a gentleman who looks after the interests of his friends. Good-day.”
He turned to the door.
“Where are you going to?” asked Jean.
“I am going to breakfast at the Café de Régence.”